All I Ever Really Wanted Was You
by Jo Lila
Summary: I do not own anything. A series 1 re-imagination with Timothy/Dorcas. Please do review. xoxo


**All I Ever Really Wanted Was You**

**Chapter 1**

Timothy's heart caught in his throat as he glanced at his pocket watch.

He was due to meet Dorcas any minute now. She had mentioned something about a delicate matter. How they needed to talk. He had a terrible suspicion it would involve cutting off their friendship. He shook his head, determined to believe Dorcas would never ask that.

Timothy turned to a photograph of his wedding day.

At first glance, they looked beautiful. As he studied it, he noticed how the spark in his eyes had disappeared. How strained Adelaide's smile was. The photograph was an appropriate metaphor for their marriage. To an outsider, Timothy and Adelaide were a perfect couple. The handsome Squire and the stylish upper class beauty.

An outsider looking in, would never know the whole truth.

They would never know the screaming arguments they had. The stiff silence at the dinner table. How cold Adelaide's eyes were when she looked at him. How Timothy could never get to sleep, he would be so confused. They would never know how he lay awake at night. Terrified this would be his life forever. Timothy lost count of the number of times he wished Dorcas were his wife. If only his family allowed him to marry for love. Before the wedding when Timothy explained he could never love Adelaide, his father glared at him in contempt.

'Timothy, understand this now and understand it well. In the upper class loveless marriages have existed for centuries. You and I, even your future children cannot marry for love. It is a luxury we can never afford' he explained angrily.

Timothy wanted to cut his wrists, he was so broken. Bitterly, he endured the whole ordeal. The wedding and endless questions into his life. How did he propose to Adelaide? Did they plan on having children? How many? It took Timothy all his strength not to scream. He endured the social events he attended. The pain which accompanied him each time he introduced Adelaide as his wife. He cast his mind back to that terrible day he discovered she was with child. Earlier she had literally run from the Manor after a hideous argument, and it had been an insane dash to locate her again. Back at the Post Office, the tension between him and Dorcas changed somehow. Timothy attempted to explain he could do no more for his marriage.

_Dorcas, I love you with all my heart. I want to spend the rest of my life with you._

Timothy's mind screamed at him to say it.

He opened his mouth.

'Dorcas I-' he began.

'Miss Lane!' Laura's voice pierced the room.

She entered, hair flying and cheeks flushed.

Timothy fought the urge to hit the wall. He would tell Dorcas when Laura left.

What was she saying? He dragged his mind back to reality.

'I think she's just so happy about the baby' Laura beamed.

The silence which followed was so sharp, it was painful.

Timothy and Dorcas' eyes met.

Anger, confusion. devastation…. Every single negative emotion was reflected in her face. Yet what could he do, with Laura there? He felt a spark of anger towards her too, even though he knew how perfectly idiotic this was. Laura had done nothing wrong. She was simply the messenger in this whole sorry charade. He was furious at her happiness, when he knew he never could be…..

The crash of the photograph to the floor brought Timothy back to reality. He sighed and bent down to retrieve it.

He tossed it on the table and walked from the drawing room.

**Chapter 2**

'There will always be reasons why you and I should be in one another's company and I feel we have to be strong in our resistance' Dorcas explained.

Timothy looked at Dorcas, _his_ Dorcas in frustration. Why was she discussing resistance? He had never felt so suffocated. Even his own tie choked him.

'It was at your bidding that we live like this' he snapped.

The long repressed anger rose in his heart. Dorcas was the love of his life and he was certain he was the love of hers. He desperately needed an explanation. The explanation he had waited an eternity for. The best way to achieve such an explanation was through emotional torture.

His plan backfired terribly.

Dorcas stared in shock.

'Timothy, please-' she began.

'Tell me why Dorcas. We've been like this for years! We meet and we chat and smile. We're on our guard to be decent and polite. We never say anything that matters' he hissed.

'Timothy this is all past and gone, and we should leave it well alone' Dorcas snapped.

'I don't believe what you told me then. That you don't love me. I lived my life bound by duty and obligation. But I never wanted any of this. All I ever really wanted was you' he continued.

His anger had now reached his heart's core. He didn't care if he had to stand there until nightfall. He was going to _force_ her to confess her love for him. God dammit.

'Tell me why you refused me. Tell me the truth' he whispered.

Timothy's dark eyes were seeped in an intense pain that only Dorcas understood.

Her heart broke into shards.

'It was my father. He told me it could never work. Love never crosses the great divide of social class. Those were his words' she confessed.

'Then your father was a bigoted, small minded fool of a man' Timothy said bitterly.

His vocabulary choice backfired too.

Dorcas stared at him in shock. The shock turned to anger and she slapped him across the face.

'Thank you. At last something real between us' he said quietly.

She looked at him through a tear stained gaze, then turned to leave.

The touch of her hand on his skin awakened something within Timothy. He pulled her into his arms and held her tight. He realized how deeply lost he was without her. Dorcas was his past, present and future. Both their hearts took flight. Far too soon the moment was destroyed, as Dorcas removed herself from the embrace and swiftly walked away.

Timothy guessed he was being observed.

He turned.

Adelaide stood, glaring at him. He was so preoccupied he never heard her footsteps. What exactly did she expect, when their marriage was based in anything except love?

He returned her glare and walked deeper into the grounds.

**Chapter 3**

Dorcas felt her heart beat so fast she thought she would faint. If the wrong person witnessed their embrace, her and Timothy's reputations would be destroyed forever.

The conversation had cut their hearts and shattered their souls. Yet Dorcas realised she had never felt so alive.

'Miss Lane' a voice greeted her.

Adelaide stood in front of her.

Dressed in a stunning lace outfit with her hair just so, she looked like she had walked from a fashion magazine. Dorcas became aware of her own tear stained face and trembling hands.

'Please let me-' she began.

Adelaide moved closer: her face etched with resentment.

'You are in love with my husband! I don't care for excuses or explanations. I need a solution. I have been married to Timothy for four years. In all that time he is only happy when he is with you. He never will love me so long as _you_ are in his life!' she snapped.

'I know' Dorcas whispered.

Her heart ached for everyone in this complex love triangle.

For herself, for being so idiotic to refuse Timothy's first proposal. For Timothy, trapped in a marriage to a woman he could never love. For Adelaide, married to a man still clearly in love with another woman.

'Next week, Timothy and I are moving to London. Stay away from my husband' Adelaide snapped.

She turned and walked back to the Manor.

Dorcas covered mouth in a desperate attempt to stem her sobs, and continued back to the Post Office.

**Chapter 4**

Later that evening, Timothy stood in the drawing room once more. He gazed into the night as he sipped his wine. His earlier plan failed to work, as did his most recent attempt. He had stopped by Zillah's party, and seeing there were still guests returned home. He desperately wanted his moment with Dorcas to be private. Timothy sighed as he fought the desire to throw the wine bottle against the wall. He _knew_ Dorcas still loved him. She needed to admit it.

He heard the door open and turned.

'Where were you just now?' Adelaide enquired coldly.

'That is not your concern' he frowned.

Realisation entered her eyes.

'You went to see Dorcas! I told her to stay away from you! That despicable, interfering-' she started.

It was as far as she was able to get, for Timothy swiftly put his hands on her shoulders.

'_Never_ say anything like that about Dorcas Lane again. Do you understand?' he snapped.

He shook Adelaide and she gave a slight whimper. She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. She moved to the corner where Timothy heard her weeping. He made no move to comfort her. Why should he? He was too consumed by his own tortured mind.

Timothy moved to the opposite end of the room, lit a cigar and resumed analysing his thoughts. Certainly it was his dreams in which he was happiest. In those dreams, Dorcas would throw her hands around his neck and declare she would love him forever.

The most painful part of all was waking up.

The body drenched in sweat.

The pain in his heart as he remembered his dreams would never become reality.

The sickening realisation that is all it would ever be.

Timothy turned to his wife. Adelaide would be lost in her own world forever. Timothy didn't care she was expecting their first child.

He was done.

'I want a divorce. I can't do this anymore' he explained.

'We finally agree on something. I would rather face the social humiliation a divorce would create, than stay married to you' Adelaide hissed.

Timothy slammed the front door behind him and strode into the night. He broke into a run and sprinted past Candleford forest. After what seemed like centuries, he reached the Post Office. Timothy could just make out a light in the first floor window. He realized he was completely out of breath and stopped.

Then he walked to the door and knocked.

**Chapter 5**

Dorcas sighed as she unlocked her front door.

She had returned from Zillah's party far too early. Tonight, she just needed to be alone. She walked to her private quarters and slumped to the floor.

'Timothy, what have I done? If only you knew how much I love you' she whispered.

Her mind moved through time as she remembered their history.

Timothy's wedding day to Adelaide. How the light in his eyes had disappeared. How his weight had dropped. The poor man was a shell of himself. Why was she the only one who noticed?

'Do you Timothy take Adelaide as your wife?' the Vicar asked.

Timothy turned and locked eyes with Dorcas.

They became lost in each other, caught in a world where destroyed futures and shattered dreams did not exist. Their hearts connected and broke in unison.

Dorcas remembered how she prayed for a miracle. For Timothy to stop the wedding. For society to realize how idiotic arranged loveless marriages were.

It did not happen.

Timothy turned back to the Vicar.

'I do' he uttered.

Dorcas knew her heart had been torn from her.

She remembered how kind Thomas' gaze had been. How Margaret reached out and held her hand tight.

Dorcas replayed her embrace that morning. She always felt so secure in Timothy's arms. She longed to hold him again! Timothy was the Heathcliff to her Cathy.…

Suddenly she heard a knock at the front door. She opened it and stared at the figure before her in shock.

'Timothy!' she exclaimed.

She looked at him in amazed confusion, then stepped aside to let him enter. They walked to her study where she locked the door.

'Why are you here?' she asked bluntly.

'I thought my presence would be rather obvious' he frowned.

'Timothy, how many times do I have to tell you? You're a married man!' Dorcas snapped.

'Dorcas, how many times do I have to tell you? I don't care' he growled.

He walked toward her and reached out so his hands locked around her waist.

'I will divorce Adelaide. It will destroy my reputation, yet I don't care. I refuse to live a lie anymore. I want us to spend the rest of our lives with each other' Timothy explained.

Dorcas' heart beat faster.

She took a deep breath. Tonight she would finally be able to explain everything.

'Timothy, for the past thirteen years I have been forced to hide my love for you. You are the love of my life. When you look in my eyes, your gaze touches my soul and makes my heart soar. I will love you forever' Dorcas whispered.

Tears slid down her face and Timothy gently wiped them away.

'Dorcas, if I stood here for a thousand years it would not be long enough to describe how much I love you. When you look at me I become lost in you. Darling, you are the only woman in this world who can make me happy' Timothy declared.

The moment they waited an eternity for arrived.

Their lips met and their souls touched.

Timothy moved one hand from her waist and cradled her head. Dorcas wrapped her hands tightly around Timothy's neck. Finally, they broke apart. Their hearts soared as they realised their love could transcend society. Most of all, because they knew they would never have to let each other go again.

**Chapter 6**

**One year later**

Timothy stood by his study window and stared out into the evening. So much had happened in the past twelve months-it made his head spin. In the aftermath of Timothy and Dorcas confessing their love, Adelaide fled to London. Her parents had sent Timothy a series of furious letters, demanding to know what happened. Timothy refused to care. How ever damaged his reputation would become, he was proceeding with the divorce. The situation solved itself in the most tragic way possible: Adelaide and the unborn child died in a riding accident. As nobody apart from her family knew, Timothy was saved from the social scandal it would have created. However, he was advised to observe a one year mourning period. It was impossible for Timothy to step into the role of grieving spouse, when he'd never loved Adelaide to begin with.

His study door opened and the footman entered, followed by Dorcas.

'Sir Timothy, I have a letter for you' she explained.

Timothy recognized her handwriting as she held it out to him.

'Of course Miss Lane. Thank you' he nodded.

Timothy signalled to the footman, who bowed and exited. It infuriated them how they literally had to act in front of other people.

Timothy locked the door then turned.

'Did you really write a letter in order to see me?' he grinned.

'Darling I thought I merely had to write your name on an envelope. Not an actual letter itself' Dorcas teased.

When Timothy opened it his heart leapt. He saw Edmund Spencer's _One Day I Wrote Her Name_ had been carefully written.

'For I myself shall like to this decay and eke my name be wiped out likewise. Not so quod I let baser things devise. To die in dust but you shall live by fame' he read.

'Your vertues rare shall eternize and in the heavens write your glorious name. Where when as death shall all the world subdue. Our love shall live and later life renew' Dorcas replied.

They looked at other, their eyes bright with tears. Timothy pulled Dorcas into his arms and kissed her. The kiss was charged and she laced her hands tight around his neck. In turn he wrapped his hands around her waist. They broke apart and continued to hold each other.

'Seeing as your birthday is tomorrow, we can change the rules regarding present opening. Happy birthday' Timothy grinned.

He handed Dorcas a wrapped parcel tied with purple ribbon.

She opened it and her hand flew to her mouth. Inside were the love letters they sent to each other as young adults. While the ink had faded a little, Dorcas checked through them and realized every letter was there. Letters filled with sentences direct from their hearts. The dates carefully written in the corner. It was a literal timeline of their love.

Dorcas looked at Timothy as tears rolled down her cheek.

'My darling, don't cry. I didn't mean to upset you' he said gently.

'These are tears of happiness. I thought your family told you to destroy these?' she asked.

'I would rather cut out my own heart' Timothy explained.

Dorcas rested her head on his chest.

'Thank you, darling. I cannot begin to describe how much these mean to me' she whispered.

'You're most welcome. I wish this mourning period was over so we can be together at last' he murmured

'I know. I feel as if the world watches our every move, let alone Candleford' Dorcas agreed.

'We are so close. Just a few more weeks. Having to keep our engagement secret because of what society considers acceptable is insane. At the ball this evening, we're sure to be the main subject of conversation. Speaking of which' Timothy smiled.

He focused properly on Dorcas' dress. It was exquisite. A deep purple creation with short embroidered sleeves and a train which dripped to the floor.

'You look beautiful' he declared.

'Thank you Timothy. You look like a Prince yourself' she remarked.

Timothy indeed looked exceptionally handsome. His black evening tail coat and black trousers contrasted perfectly with his white bow tie and shirt.

'The ball starts in twenty minutes so you can appreciate my dress properly then' Dorcas teased.

'I appreciate your dresses best when I have ripped it from your body, and we are otherwise engaged' Timothy growled.

He kissed her once more before they walked from the study into the ballroom.

**Chapter 7**

The Autumn ball at Candleford manor was a Midwinter family tradition. Every year the Candlefordians looked forward to an evening of dancing, at the finest address in town. The ballroom seemed straight out of a fairy tale. A vast room studded with beautiful paintings and fine furniture. A roaring fire crackled in the elaborate fireplace, while the windows overlooked the sweeping gardens. Cigar smoke and laughter filled the air. One could be mistaken for believing they had entered another world.

'I knew he never should have been invited' Timothy frowned, as Peter Midwinter arrived.

'He is your brother' Dorcas explained gently.

'So?' he replied.

Timothy and Peter had never seen eye to eye. Over the years, their relationship had deteriorated for various reasons. Peter envied Timothy's position as eldest son and heir, whereas Timothy envied Peter's freedom to fall in love with whoever he wanted. The most dangerous reason of all was that Peter was far too perceptive for Timothy to consider him a true ally.

'Peter, thank you for coming. It's good to see you' Timothy lied.

He held out his hand.

Peter nodded and shook it. Three years younger, he was tall and slim with the same dark hair and eyes as his brother. While Timothy's eyes danced with mischief, Peter's danced with contempt. He had never married, instead leaving a succession of broken hearted females across London. Timothy privately believed Peter had no real understanding of love.

'Sir Peter, how lovely to see you' Dorcas smiled politely.

Truthfully, she had never liked Peter. He was too arrogant and exceptionally cold. More dangerously, she knew how perceptive he could be. Timothy warned her Peter would have guessed they were in a relationship.

They would need to proceed carefully.

Peter's lip curled when he saw how Timothy and Dorcas interacted. He had long known Timothy was in love with Dorcas Lane, even when married to Adelaide. She was merely a middle class Postmistress from Candleford. Could his brother not aim higher for his second partner?

'Good evening Dorcas. How are you? I trust the Post Office is operating well?' he enquired.

He appeared oblivious to the flirtatious gazes the other female guests sent him. They made stilted conversation, until Ruby and Pearl Pratt arrived. Their outfits consisted of colourful dresses with elaborate feathers in their hair. They noticed Peter, swiftly walked across the ballroom and hovered hopefully. It took Timothy a split second to realise they were waiting for an introduction.

'Pearl and Ruby, allow me to introduce my brother Sir Peter Midwinter. Peter, this is Pearl and Ruby Pratt. They operate the clothing store in Candleford' Timothy explained.

'A pleasure to meet you. I always thought businesswomen are so forward thinking' Peter grinned.

Pearl and Ruby twittered happily.

'Sir Peter, the pleasure is ours! Such a caring man you are to travel from London. Your dedication is greatly admired' Pearl purred.

'Indeed! So often these days men do not understand the importance of family. Sir Timothy is lucky to have such a loyal brother' Ruby chipped in.

Their flirting was so obvious, Dorcas laughed softly to herself.

'Sir Peter, may I have this dance?' Pearl asked boldly.

She held out her hand, looking rather hopeful.

'Miss Pratt, I would be honoured. Unfortunately it will have to be later. I did promise this dance to Dorcas' Peter exclaimed.

Both Timothy and Dorcas frowned.

'Of course' Pearl nodded.

She looked so crestfallen that Timothy took pity on her.

'I would be delighted' he offered.

Pearl beamed as they walked to the other waltzing couples. To think, she would dance with Sir Timothy Midwinter himself!

Timothy turned to look back to Dorcas. She hesitated then nodded.

'Dorcas?' Peter smiled as he bowed to her.

She wanted to turn and run. Alas, Ruby was looking at her expectantly. Dorcas knew if she refused, it would only create a scene. She sighed and reluctantly placed her hand on Peter's shoulder. He placed his hand on her waist and they began to dance. Across the other side of the ballroom, Thomas and Margaret were deep in conversation. Laura had just arrived with Emma and Robert. Pearl and Timothy waltzed past them. Timothy winked, as Pearl waved.

Dorcas wished she were in Timothy's arms instead.

She remembered how they attended these very dances in years gone by. Timothy had always been her dance partner, which infuriated his parents. When Timothy held her, Dorcas felt the impossible became possible…

'You are lost in memory' Peter observed.

He gazed at her with barely disguised hatred.

'I was remembering previous dances here' she remarked politely.

Peter gave her a cold smile and Dorcas saw there was a spark of malice in his eyes.

'Of course. Even then my parents reiterated you would be the ruin of Timothy' he smirked.

'How dare you?' she whispered.

'I've known for a long time you are in love with him' he continued silkily.

'I am not discussing this' Dorcas snapped.

He pulled her closer.

'My family were right. You're not part of our upper class world and never will be. Do you honestly think Sir Timothy Midwinter would be happy with you? A woman from the middle class? You must be insane' Peter hissed.

Dorcas walked across the room.

Timothy excused himself and caught up to her. She turned and he realized she was on the verge of tears. He felt the desire to hit Peter. What exactly had he said?

They moved to a quiet corner.

'Sweetheart, what happened?' Timothy asked in an undertone.

He longed to take her in his arms. Sadly, this would only create the social scandal they had tried so desperately to avoid. Both were painfully aware that every person in the room was watching them. Many of the guests had long suspected what the real relationship between Timothy Midwinter, the handsome squire and Dorcas Lane, the independent Postmistress was. There had been gossip that years ago Timothy had proposed. Of course, they could not exactly ask either of them about it. Still. One could never be certain if their rumoured love had died.

An excited buzz developed as whispers broke out with terrifying speed.

Timothy saw Laura, Emma, Robert, Thomas and Margaret walk across the ballroom to them. These were the only people who knew about their engagement.

Margaret placed a comforting hand on Dorcas' shoulder, as Robert and Thomas glared at Peter. They had never liked him either: the man was far too arrogant.

Discreetly, Timothy took Dorcas' hand.

'My dear, are you alright?' Margaret queried.

She looked so concerned, Dorcas felt terrible.

'I just felt rather light headed. I don't mean to worry any of you' she explained.

'Peter has something to do with this' Timothy frowned.

'Sir Timothy, I would be more than happy to hit him for you' Robert grinned.

'_Robert!'_ Emma snapped.

'I'll certainly keep that in mind' Timothy smiled.

'Miss Lane, let me' Laura murmured.

She gently pinned back Dorcas' hair which had come undone.

'Peter must have sadness in his soul to create sorrow' Thomas commented.

Ruby and Pearl wound their way across the ballroom, feathers swaying as they moved.

'Dorcas, are you quite well?' Pearl whispered.

Ruby pressed her handkerchief into Dorcas' hand, looking troubled.

Timothy was relieved to glimpse only concern in their faces. Several months ago, he would never have considered Pearl or Ruby acquaintances. Now he was rather fond of them. Time certainly had a strange way of resetting society and the people in it.

'I'm fine ladies' Dorcas smiled bravely.

She realised how lucky she and Timothy were to have such supportive friends. Timothy observed the other guests. Thankfully, the room had returned to normal. He needed to talk to Dorcas alone.

'Excuse us' he murmured.

They exited the ballroom and walked down the Manor's long corridor back to his study.

**Chapter 8**

Timothy locked his study door then turned. He held Dorcas tight in his arms, as she rested her head on his chest.

'Tell me everything' he instructed gently.

'I know I should not be so upset. When we were dancing, Peter said I would never be good enough for you. He explained you would never be happy with me, because I'm middle class to your upper. He represents what so many people would think' she sobbed.

'Dorcas, look at me. I told you the first and second time I proposed, I don't give a damn what my family or society think. My family are centuries behind the times. They still believe in arranged marriages! As for society believing people shouldn't marry if they are from different classes, the idea is insane. You are the love of my life and I am the love of yours. That is all that matters darling' Timothy explained fiercely.

'I know what you said is true. When you're faced with somebody who clearly hates everything you represent, it becomes difficult' Dorcas murmured.

'God I could hit Peter' Timothy seethed.

'Darling, promise me you won't confront him? I beg you. I want to forget this event happened' she pleaded.

'I promise' he nodded.

He stroked her hair and softly kissed her lips.

Suddenly a knock on the door interrupted them. Timothy opened it to see Thomas, Margaret, Emma, Robert and Laura, accompanied by Pearl and Ruby. He turned back to Dorcas to see her reaction. She nodded, and Timothy gestured for them to enter.

As the group surrounded her, Timothy slipped out. Instead of turning left back to the ballroom, he turned right to the dining room.

He had lied.

Of course he was going to confront Peter.

**Chapter 9**

The Candleford Manor dining room was stunning. An expansive space decorated with portraits of Midwinter ancestors and priceless antiques. A beautiful mirror was fixed above the fireplace. The oak table was dotted with expensive wines and cigars, as luxurious flowers cascaded from vases. The room radiated power, yet Timothy had always disliked it. The wealth it represented reminded him he had been born into a life he never wanted.

As he suspected, Peter was the only occupant. His white shirt was untucked, his suit jacket discarded on the floor. The chair was positioned so his legs stretched out and rested on the table, feet crossed at the ankles. He smoked a cigar, nursed a glass of wine and looked infuriatingly comfortable.

'I wondered where you'd got to' Peter drawled.

He proffered the cigar box.

'You know I stopped smoking' Timothy snapped.

'Desire is immortal. Don't you agree?' Peter smirked.

He lit a fresh cigar and watched his brother with interest.

'Excuse me?' Timothy growled.

'Cast your mind back six years ago, when you and Adelaide were just married. You held a ball here at the Manor. I saw how your eyes lit up when Dorcas arrived. Adelaide turned to me. Said she wished you looked at her that way' Peter recalled.

'Stop it. I need to talk to you' Timothy said bluntly.

Peter sighed as he unfolded himself from his chair. Both men walked to the fireplace and stood at opposite ends. Above was a portrait of their great great grandfather Christopher Midwinter. Christopher married their great great grandmother Jemima, against the advice of his family. Timothy smiled. At least Christopher understood love.

'Yes?' Peter asked lazily.

Timothy turned to his brother.

'Dorcas told me everything. Never talk to her like that again. Do you understand?' he snapped.

Peter shrugged and continued to smoke.

'What exactly is it about Dorcas you dislike?' Timothy asked.

He was dangerously close to losing his temper.

'For God's sake! Do you have to ask?! She is middle class. Inferior to us in every way. We both know relationships between people of different social classes never work. Every romantic relationship which crosses that social class divide willend in tragedy' Peter argued.

Timothy glared at his younger brother. Peter had always been elitist, yet Timothy assumed he would embrace a changing world.

'Do you _realise_ how arrogant you are? Dorcas is my fiancée so-' he began.

'Fiancée? Have you lost your mind? You can do so much better than Dorcas Lane! You have a choice of any upper class woman in London. You decide to choose a middle class Postmistress from Candleford! Your future children will be tainted by this. They'll have impure blood!' Peter snarled.

Timothy's fist connected to Peter's jaw and he crashed to the floor.

A polite cough diverted Timothy's attention. It was Fletcher, the butler.

'Sir? Mr Midwinter's carriage is here' Fletcher announced.

Peter dragged himself up from the floor. His lip bled and his cheek was bruised.

'By this time tomorrow, everybody in London will know how Timothy Midwinter destroyed his reputation when he lost his heart to a common Postmistress' he smiled maliciously.

'Get out' Timothy hissed.

Peter gave a bark of laughter and walked from the room.

Minutes later Dorcas entered, looking concerned.

'Darling, is everything alright?' she asked.

'I had a word with Peter' Timothy offered.

'You promised you wouldn't confront him-' she began.

'I didn't confront him. He insulted you so I struck him' he corrected.

Dorcas shook her head, as her eyes sparkled.

'You Midwinters always were so passionate. Just one of the many qualities I admire in you' she confessed.

They laughed.

Timothy wrapped his hands around her waist and drew her close.

'Allow me to demonstrate that passion in a very different way' he whispered.

**Chapter 10**

Laura smiled as she unlocked the Post office backdoor.

The Autumn ball had been almost perfect. An evening she would remember forever. She shook her head as she moved upstairs. It seemed like yesterday she had moved to Candleford. In reality it had been a year ago. She remembered how terrified she felt, as if she found herself in another world. In so many ways she had, because Candleford had been so vastly different from everything she had ever known. Now, she could never imagine living anywhere else. Larkrise would always have a place in her heart. But Candleford was home.

She tiptoed into her shared bedroom. It was so beautiful!

Two beds with embroidered coverlets stood in the far corner. The white walls contained a single sketch of the Post Office and flowers were by the window. As usual, the chest of drawers was in a comforting state of disarray. Laura carefully opened their wardrobe. Her side was perfect. Dresses organized neatly and shoes properly lined up. Minnie's side was the exact opposite. Her dresses lay scattered everywhere and her shoes were mismatched. Laura changed into her nightgown and glanced at Minnie's bed. A bad cold prevented Minnie from attending the ball, which she had been most disappointed about. Laura promised to tell her everything when she returned. It was so late! All she wanted to do was crawl into bed.

She saw a lit candle on their bedside table and moved to retrieve her journal.

Suddenly, the candle appeared alarmingly close to her face.

'You're back!' Minnie chirped.

'If you could not almost set my hair on fire, I would appreciate it' Laura giggled.

They looked at each other and laughed.

'How was it?' Minnie asked excitedly.

'It was so wonderful! The Manor ballroom is from a fairy tale and the guests were impossibly glamourous. For me, the best part was the dancing. Your partner holding your waist as you gaze into each other's eyes' Laura explained.

'It sounds perfect' Minnie remarked.

She broke into a coughing fit. Once recovered, she fixed Laura with a curious gaze.

'Do you think Miss Lane and Sir Timothy enjoyed it?' she asked.

'I imagine so' Laura replied smoothly.

'Are they in a relationship?' she wondered.

There was a sharp silence.

'Whatever makes you say that?' Laura inquired.

She was deliberately playing for time, as she thought back to earlier that evening. How Dorcas explained what happened with Sir Peter. How he insulted everything she represented. Laura dug her nails into her hands. How could he be so arrogant? It made her blood boil.

'When I arrived in Candleford, I heard how years before Sir Timothy had proposed. Is everything I heard true? Or is it rumour?' Minnie frowned.

Laura bit her lip, as her heart beat faster. She knew she would be going behind Dorcas' back if she told Minnie. Dorcas had politely asked Laura to keep her engagement news private.

'What I am about to tell you must remain a complete secret. Do you understand?' she whispered.

'I'm excellent at keeping secrets' Minnie beamed.

'You've kept secrets before?' Laura asked hopefully.

'No' she replied.

Laura groaned.

'I haven't kept secrets because nobody told me any. I swear I won't tell a soul' Minnie said earnestly.

Laura reached out and patted her hand. Since Minnie's arrival in Candleford, the girls had become firm friends. While Minnie was not the most co-ordinated person in the world, she _was_ loyal.

Minnie drew the blanket around her, and Laura began.

**Chapter 11**

'Please can we go to sleep?' Pearl sighed.

They were safely settled in their bedroom. Pearl was exhausted, while Ruby had been fiddling with her hair for the past ten minutes.

'I was thinking about Dorcas and everything she told us. How Timothy proposed to her all those years ago. How difficult it was for her to accept his marriage to Adelaide. It must have been heart breaking for them' Ruby explained.

She chewed on a lock of hair, as tears slid onto her nightgown.

'We Pratts don't cry. Especially not in such an unladylike fashion' Pearl snapped.

Ruby cried harder.

Pearl rolled her eyes as she passed a handkerchief. Her sister had always been far too emotional.

'I should have realized sooner. The amount of time Timothy spent at the Post office. Or the way Dorcas and Timothy looked at each other. We assumed they were platonic friends. How could we have been so blind? They always were in love, but we were never perceptive enough to notice' Pearl commented sadly.

'I was delighted to hear about their engagement. I must say Dorcas and Timothy remind me of Guinevere and Lancelot. Two lovers separated by fate' Ruby murmured dreamily.

'You've been reading those ridiculous magazines again' Pearl admonished.

She paused.

'I agree. Now they are together, it certainly feels as if the world has been restored somehow. Do you ever think about marriage?' she asked thoughtfully.

'Why do you say that?' Ruby wondered.

'I just-never mind' Pearl sighed.

She blew out the candle and turned to face the opposite wall. After years of heartache, seeing Dorcas and Timothy happy was wonderful. However, it forced Pearl to question her own life. She had been so concerned with making the Stores successful, that she failed to realize there was so much more she wanted.

Could she change her future?

Was it too late for a husband and children?

Or was she destined to stay an unmarried seamstress forever?

A tear trickled down her cheek.

**Chapter 12**

Candleford Manor's master bedroom was centuries old and seeped in history. The carved four poster bed was beautifully furnished, with a handsome wardrobe opposite. The windows overlooked Candleford forest and beyond.

Dorcas and Timothy lay entangled, holding each other tight.

He stroked her hair and she nestled closer still into him.

'What are you thinking?' he smiled.

'The names for our future children' she confessed.

'Darling, maybe this time we can agree?' he teased.

'Sweetheart, disagreeing makes the discussion far more interesting' Dorcas insisted.

They laughed and she moved to kiss his lips. She clasped his shoulders as Timothy ran his fingers through her hair. They broke apart and Dorcas reached out to unlock the bedside table. She retrieved a folded sheet of paper which she handed to Timothy. He wrapped his hands around her, as Dorcas nestled against his chest.

'Which names are your favourite?' she asked.

Timothy smiled as he studied the list.

'I like the classic names such as Benjamin and Oliver. Then let me see. For a daughter the name Jemima is lovely. There would be a family link because of my great great grandmother' Timothy explained.

They continued to analyse the list, writing in and crossing out various names.

'For middle names, what do you think of Cecelia?' Dorcas murmured.

'It's beautiful. It sounds very regal' Timothy replied.

He turned to her, his dark eyes dancing with a wicked glimmer.

'For once we appear to agree. What is this madness?' he grinned.

They laughed as Dorcas gently tapped his cheek.

'I think of upper and middle class people not so lucky as us. Locked in loveless marriages forever. My heart breaks for the children born to those relationships. How can you have a future with somebody you will never love?' she whispered.

'Society is to blame. Those destroyed futures would never exist, if people were encouraged to marry for love. Instead, society forces us to believe you can only marry within your own social class. If you marry above your class, you're viewed as an upstart. If you marry below, you're considered literally marrying beneath yourself. It is so backward' Timothy sighed.

Dorcas stroked his cheek.

'Darling, when you first proposed I let society and my family influence my decision. I believed in our love. I was so terrified what society would think. A Postmaster's daughter married to a future Squire. I broke both our hearts and destroyed years of our future. I'm so sorry. I can never forgive myself' Dorcas explained.

Tears slid down her cheek. Timothy brushed them away and pressed his forehead to hers.

'Sweetheart, I understand. I knew it would be the most difficult decision you would ever have to make. Accept my proposal and constantly be judged by society. Or refuse my proposal and live a lie. I never cared about society's reaction. All I ever wanted is you. I love you with all my soul' he declared.

'I will love you until the end of time' Dorcas replied.

'You are going to be the perfect mother' Timothy said softly.

'You're going to be a wonderful father' she smiled.

Timothy kissed her lips and finally, still wrapped in each other's arms they fell asleep.

**Chapter 13**

**One week later**

Karl Riley woke with a start.

He lifted his head from his desk and rubbed his eyes. He still had so much to do before he moved to…. Damn. Where was it again?

He fumbled for a sheet of paper and examined it. Ah yes. Candleford. It was a beautiful name. He hoped the townspeople would be welcoming. He knew from experience what it was like. To be an outsider desperately trying to fit in. Karl sighed as he glanced around his office. His home was a stunning townhouse in Mayfair, which left Karl feeling suffocated. He barely knew anybody in London. The rare acquaintances he knew led incredibly busy lives, as he did.

Karl was an outstanding businessman. He had studied Mathematics at Cambridge University, and developed his real estate business shortly after graduation. Now his thriving company operated properties across London. He was seen by many as a shining star in the business world. Unfortunately life had a habit of leaving his dreams in broken shards. First, his beloved sister Grace had taken ill. Next, William his long term business partner quit without warning. Finally, his doctors suggested a move from the smoke filled scene of London to the country. They warned his health would be in danger if he stayed.

Karl peered at his new property details. The home he would shortly move to was 5 Candleford Street, located next to the Stores. When he visited Candleford to examine the property, he briefly met the Stores owners.

What were their names?

He tapped his head in frustration.

Of course! Pearl and Ruby Pratt. It was a fleeting introduction, with the power to burn into his memory. He politely explained he would be their new neighbour. While Ruby appeared thrilled, it had been Pearl's gaze which struck him. She studied him with a mixture of hope and sadness.

Karl stood and swore as a mountain of papers fell to the office floor. He frowned as he examined himself in the mirror. There was stubble around his jaw and his brown eyes were bloodshot. His clothes were wrinkled, his dark hair unkempt. He plucked at his waistcoat and sighed.

Before he could ring the bell, Mrs Everly his housekeeper appeared.

'Good morning sir. Breakfast is ready' she explained.

'Good morning Everly. Thank you' he replied distractedly.

He gazed about the office for a moment.

'Sir, are you quite well?' Everly inquired.

She was a tall, slim woman with grey hair and charming blue eyes. She had worked for the family since before Karl could remember, and was the definition of kindness. He viewed her as a second mother. Growing up, Grace and Karl had certainly seen her more.

'I was thinking of all the memories I have here' he confessed.

'A new adventure waits for you in Candleford' she smiled.

'A new adventure waits for us. I hope you're looking forward to the move too?' he asked.

'Of course, Mr Riley' she nodded.

'I do wish you would refer to me as Karl' he grinned.

'Sir, thank you-' Everly began.

'Then it's settled' he laughed.

They walked into the dining room, which overlooked the bustling street outside. Karl sat down and reached for the stack of letters in front of him.

'This one is from Grace's doctor. She is expected to make a full recovery' he explained.

Grace had always been a fragile soul and her illness devastated Karl. Now he knew she would be fine, a weight lifted from his shoulders.

'How wonderful! What a relief that is' Everly beamed.

'Everly, please do sit down. You need a rest' Karl said.

She flopped down into a chair opposite, looking exhausted. He felt a stab of pity for her.

'I would like you to take the rest of the day off. I only have my office to pack up, then I'm finished' he reassured.

'That is most kind' she murmured.

Karl turned to his newspaper.

'Do you remember a Sir Timothy Midwinter?' he frowned.

'I do. My brother used to work for him as the Candleford Manor gardener' Everly nodded.

'Ah of course! It says Midwinter's relationship with a Postmistress by the name of Miss Lane, has London society reeling' Karl read aloud.

'When I visited my brother, we met Miss Lane several times. She was very pleasant' Everly smiled.

'People from different social classes should be allowed to have relationships, without suffering any consequences' Karl scowled.

He gazed out of the window.

It was deeply romantic to love someone so much, you were prepared to spend the rest of your life with them. It was even more romantic when people came from different classes. To some, a different class represented a different world. When people abandoned those worlds to be together, it demonstrated how powerful their love was.

Without warning, his mind flickered to Pearl Pratt.

**Chapter 14**

'What do you think so far?' Ruby asked nervously.

She turned the mannequin around and Dorcas gasped.

The wedding dress was beautiful. A white satin creation, with hand stitched embroidery along the bodice. The sleeves had delicate buttons and lace detail. A simple veil completed the look.

'It is-' she choked.

She was lost for words and a tear trickled down her cheek.

'Dorcas, what is it? Do you not like the design? The embroidery? Ruby _do _something!' Pearl hissed.

'I never thought I would ever see my own wedding dress' Dorcas confessed.

Ruby's lip quivered and Pearl shot her a warning glance. Crying in front of family, behind closed doors was acceptable. Crying in front of customers was most definitely not.

Dorcas hugged them both and made arrangements to return for a final visit. She glanced at her watch. Already she was late to meet Timothy for a riding appointment.

Pearl attached the closed sign to the front door, her mind lost in thought.

She had always been acquaintances with Dorcas. In the last year, she and Dorcas had moved from acquaintances to friends. Dorcas trusted them enough to explain everything about her past with Timothy. In turn, Pearl had explained their own distressing childhood. Pearl was thrilled to have a friend other than her sister. She smiled sadly. She had seen how Dorcas' face lit up when she spoke about Timothy. An ache developed in her own heart. Pearl would have given quite literally anything to have a wonderful man in her life too. A man she could share a future with.

Once again, her mind turned to Karl Riley.

Lately he had been all she could think about. Their meeting was seared into her memory. She would be lying if she said she did not find him attractive. Tall and slim, with wonderful dark hair and stunning eyes. She had read about his work. How he developed his property business from nothing. Now it was one of the most successful companies in London….

'Pearl? Are you alright?'

Suddenly she realised Ruby had been addressing her for sometime.

'Yes?' she sighed.

'Our new neighbour has arrived' Ruby beamed.

Pearl stepped out into Candleford Street, just in time to see a carriage stop outside Number 5. Karl disembarked, noticed her and waved.

Pearl took a deep breath and walked toward him.

'Mr Riley, welcome to Candleford' she smiled.

'Thank you, Miss Pratt. Do call me Karl' he grinned.

'I shall indeed. Please call me Pearl' she nodded.

Karl gently shook her hand as his dark eyes sparkled. He looked more handsome than ever. Pearl noticed the other Candleford residents gazing at him admiringly. She cast about for something, _anything_ to say.

'I hope your move has gone well?' she continued.

'Thankfully, it has. To finally be in Candleford is wonderful' Karl noted.

Was it her imagination, or did his eyes linger on hers a fraction of a second too long?

'We would be delighted if you would join us tomorrow evening for dinner' came a voice to Pearl's left.

She turned to see Ruby, gazing at Karl with simpering eyes.

Pearl frowned. Didn't Ruby realize this was a private conversation?

'I would be honoured' Karl murmured.

Pearl made her excuses and hurried back inside. She glanced around the Store, as though seeing it for the first time. The mannequins in various states of dress. The sewing materials arranged on the counter. The piles of beautiful materials. Lace, satins and silks. She smiled as she remembered the Stores history. How she and Ruby would work through the night to complete orders. Then wake up the next morning and assist customers. Even though their eyes would be red from lack of sleep, and so tired they could barely concentrate.

Pearl realised the Stores were her life. She made her way upstairs to their bedroom and sank down on her bed.

Would she really want to give up her entire life's work for Karl?

A man who until several weeks ago, she had no idea existed?

She put a hand to her chest.

Seeing Karl again made her feel faint. Her heart beat in a way it had never done before.

'Karl Riley, what have you done to me?' she whispered.

**Chapter 15**

Dorcas adjusted her riding outfit and walked outside.

Timothy turned, his face lighting up when he saw her. His white shirt contrasted with his grey waistcoat and dark trousers. He wore beautifully crafted leather riding boots and carried a pair of leather gloves. He was the perfect image of a gentleman.

'Darling, I'm so sorry I'm late' Dorcas apologized.

She kissed his lips deeply, and ran her fingers through his hair.

They broke apart and beamed at each other.

'That certainly made the wait worthwhile' Timothy grinned.

Dorcas laughed and tenderly stroked his face.

Timothy took hold of her hand, and they began to walk to the Manor.

'How was your dress appointment?' he asked.

'Ruby and Pearl have almost finished. It looks wonderful' Dorcas replied.

Timothy studied her.

For many years, Dorcas' eyes had been tinted with devastation. A devastation which Timothy had so desperately wanted to heal. Now, when Timothy looked into her eyes all he saw was happiness. He had waited for Dorcas for so long. Endured a broken marriage and tortured mind. At last, she was his. He loved her so much, his heart hurt.

Dorcas looked at him.

Ever since they had confessed their love one year ago, the spark had returned in Timothy's beautiful eyes. He looked alive again. She had experienced years of heartache. Endless nights where she lay awake, too haunted by past memories to sleep. Fate had stepped in. Finally, Timothy the love of her life was hers forever.

'I found it difficult to concentrate because I was thinking-' she began.

'About our honeymoon?' Timothy finished.

'Yes. A fortnight in France. How perfect! Travel is my one weakness' she remarked.

Timothy laughed.

'I know darling. I can't wait myself' he smiled.

They walked through Candleford forest. It was a mass of tangled trees, twisting every which way. Dorcas remembered how she had spent most of her childhood roaming this forest with Timothy. The adventures they had! It seemed like a distant dream.

'People seem to have cast us as tragic romantic figures' Dorcas commented.

The newspaper articles had been printed, so the entire country knew about their relationship. Laura declared Timothy and Dorcas were more romantic than Romeo and Juliet. Ruby believed their relationship was more tragic than Lancelot and Guinevere.

'I'm the dashing knight who saves the kingdom. Obviously' Timothy grinned.

Dorcas laughed.

'Darling, surely you realize you're the prince?' she teased.

Even though the conversation was humorous, Dorcas meant it. Timothy had always been her prince. He would be for all eternity.

By this point, they had reached Candleford Manor. It represented centuries of Midwinter history. History which Timothy had been completely prepared to abandon for love.

'Do you remember that time you visited the Manor? When we were both sixteen?' Timothy asked softly.

'Of course' Dorcas whispered.

Time disappeared as they both became lost in memory…

**Chapter 16**

'Dorcas, will you please hurry? I told Sir Christopher we would be at the Manor ten minutes ago!' Mr Lane called.

Dorcas surveyed herself in the mirror. Her turquoise eyes were bright and her dark hair loose. Her navy dress and black tights were clean, her grey boots polished.

She sighed.

She knew by this evening her dress would be torn, the tights ripped and her boots caked with mud. Dorcas was so busy seeking out adventures with Timothy, she never noticed the state of her clothes.

'I'm leaving now' Mr Lane continued.

Dorcas flew downstairs from her bedroom and into the Post Office.

Her father laughed.

'That trick always works' he grinned.

Mr Lane was a tall, slender man. His grey hair was neat and his blue eyes bright. He had a wonderful sense of humour and was exceptionally kind. As she had no mother, Dorcas was automatically closer to her father.

He collected Sir Christopher Midwinter's postbag, and together they walked to the Manor. As they journeyed through Candleford forest, Dorcas studied her father. He looked thinner than usual and bleak. She knew if she questioned him, he would only tell her an edited version of the truth.

'Darling, there's something I need to talk to you about. Your friendship with Timothy' her father remarked.

He turned to face her. His gaze was serious, his blue eyes stern. Suddenly Dorcas felt terrified.

What exactly was he going to say?

In those few seconds, her father turned into a stranger. He would never understand her relationship with Timothy. Repeatedly he warned Dorcas not to become too involved. His wretched phrase _Love never crosses the great divide of social class _was scorched into her memory.

'Lane! There you are' a voice interrupted.

Dorcas looked around her, and realised they'd reached the Manor.

It was Fletcher, the new Midwinter butler. He was a cheerful man and very pleasant. Today, his green eyes were wounded and he appeared nervous.

'A word of warning. Sir Christopher's in a terrible mood. He has already thrown a glass at my head and threatened to fire me. I advise you to proceed with care' Fletcher explained.

'He threw a glass at you?' Mr Lane asked, shocked.

'It missed and hit the wall' Fletcher shrugged.

'What did you do?' Dorcas asked curiously.

'I switched his expensive wine for the Wagon and Horses wine' Fletcher replied.

He grinned and turned to Sir Christopher's office.

Dorcas laughed.

'It's not funny' her father snapped.

He sighed and followed Fletcher into the office.

'Of course not' a familiar voice said.

Dorcas whipped round to see Timothy.

'It's hilarious' he grinned.

She saw the familiar spark in Timothy's dark eyes. He winked and they laughed until their bodies ached.

He held out his hand.

'Race you to the oak tree?' he smiled.

Dorcas nodded.

'Go ahead. I need to give you at least a five minute head start' she replied mischievously.

Timothy laughed and took her hand.

Candleford Manor was so vast that a journey from one part of the estate to the next could take an eternity. The oak tree was located on the very edges of the property. By the time they reached it, the Manor was a speck in the distance. They seated themselves under the tree as silence fell between them. Even the atmosphere felt different. Pierced with an emotion they both felt.

Timothy looked at Dorcas.

He was struck by how beautiful she was. Her turquoise eyes glittered and her dark hair fell around her. His parents had warned him so many times not to become too attached. The Midwinters were adamant Timothy would marry well. Sadly, the upper class females Timothy had met were so radically different from Dorcas. They were cruel, vain creatures who blindly followed their parents orders. Dorcas was the one person in the world who Timothy could be himself with. He loved everything about her. Her kindness and loyalty. Her compassion. How her eyes danced with mischief….

He shook his head and returned to reality.

Dorcas studied him.

His dark hair was rumpled and his brown eyes glittered. He was tall for his age, with a slim build. Dorcas was too terrified to admit the truth: she had fallen deeply in love with him. Timothy haunted her dreams and frequented her mind.

She sighed.

As heir to the famous Midwinter estate, Timothy was one of the most eligible young men in the country, He was extremely handsome and highly intelligent. Consequently, many upper class families were eager to introduce their daughters to him. How could she watch him have a future which didn't include her?

Timothy stroked her cheek.

'What is it?' he asked.

'I just-' Dorcas began.

How would she even begin to explain?

In her heart she knew a Postmaster's daughter would never be allowed to marry a future Squire. However deeply she loved Timothy, their relationship could never be.

'Never mind' she sighed.

Timothy gazed at her sadly. Dorcas thought she saw the spark in his beautiful eyes fade.

'As usual, my parents are trying to dictate my future. Next summer they're taking me to London to attend various events. The only reason is so they can find a suitable bride' he explained bitterly.

'I see' Dorcas replied.

Her voice was quiet and she struggled to keep her tears in check.

Timothy reached out and took her hand.

'You are the only woman I want to marry' he whispered.

'Your parents want to see you married to a female who is your equal. Somebody who is upper class and well bred. Everything I'm not' Dorcas explained.

'Don't you dare say that!' Timothy snapped.

He rose to his feet, then angrily pulled Dorcas to hers.

'Dorcas, it is what you are! Don't you understand? I love you and I believe you love me. Why are we still hiding from each other?' Timothy cried.

Dorcas' eyes glistened with tears, as her head began to hurt.

'Society would never accept-' she began.

'I don't give a damn about society! My parents are desperately unhappy together _because _they followed society's rules and had an arranged marriage. Their marriage is technically a business arrangement. They hate each other. I would rather die than have a marriage like theirs' Timothy growled.

'Please try to understand! We come from very different worlds' Dorcas explained angrily.

The entire conversation was surreal. She attempted to step around Timothy with no success. He reached out and placed his hands on her waist. She struggled to remove herself from him. His hands only tightened around her, trapping her against the tree.

'I need to hear it from your own lips. Do you love me?' Timothy asked.

'I beg you-' Dorcas pleaded.

'_Answer me'_ he replied.

He spoke in a dangerously quiet tone.

'Yes. I love you with every piece of my heart' Dorcas whispered.

They looked at each other until time seemed to stop.

Finally, Dorcas broke their gaze and moved around him. She had walked several paces when Timothy snapped.

'Dorcas!' he barked.

'What?' she cried.

She turned to face him, her hair flying and eyes sparkling.

Timothy pulled her toward him and kissed her.

He held her tightly. One hand around her waist, the other stroking her head. Dorcas moved her hand down his back, longing for him to be even closer. Their hearts moved through time together.

Reality struck as they broke apart.

**Chapter 17**

On Friday morning, Dorcas walked to Candleford Manor.

The Post Office felt empty with none of her staff. Laura had returned to Larkrise to spend the weekend with her family. Minnie was staying with distant cousins in London, while Thomas and Margaret were in Somerset.

Dorcas bit her lip. She was concerned about the future of her career.

Would she have to resign?

In 1876, the Post Office had introduced a marriage bar, which meant women had to resign once they married. Another rule forbade married women operating certain positions.

She sighed: she would never understand outdated laws. Timothy promised he'd look into the situation. She felt a spark of hope as she considered this. Surely there would be news by now? She opened the heavy iron gates and walked across the driveway, pausing to drink in the beauty of Candleford Manor. Dorcas could hardly believe in one week, this would be her home. _Their_ home.

She stroked the engagement ring on her left hand and smiled.

Timothy was in his office when Dorcas entered. He stood and pulled her into his arms.

'I've missed you' he murmured.

'And I you' she replied.

She kissed his lips, as his hands toyed with her hair.

They gazed out of the window. Candleford forest stretched out in front of them, as mist danced in the air.

'The view is so beautiful' Dorcas murmured.

'I forget how lucky we are to live in Candleford' Timothy agreed.

They continued to hold each other. Eventually, Timothy removed himself from the embrace and walked to his desk.

'I have the Postmaster General's reply' he explained.

He picked up the nearest letter and handed it to her.

Dorcas realized this letter would determine her future. Her hands trembled as she took it.

Timothy studied her.

'Would you prefer if I read it?' he asked gently.

'Yes please' Dorcas replied.

He slit the letter open and read aloud.

'_Dear Sir Timothy, _

_Thank you for your letter dated 10 November. _

_Having reviewed the situation, I hereby give permission for Miss Dorcas Lane to continue as Postmistress of Candleford Post Office. There will be no need for Miss Lane to resign, or change her position to Sub Postmistress. _

_Furthermore, I offer my warmest congratulations on your engagement. _

_With best wishes,_

_Henry Fitzalan Howard (Postmaster General)_

He looked at Dorcas, whose eyes were bright.

'Oh Timothy thank you!' she cried.

She kissed his lips tenderly. They broke apart and beamed at the other.

Suddenly, Dorcas was overcome with dizziness. Her head spun and she stumbled, falling against Timothy.

'Darling, what happened?' he asked.

He stroked her hair: concern etched in his face.

'I felt so ill' she murmured.

'You've been working too hard, my angel. You need rest. Come. I'll take you upstairs' he nodded.

Once Dorcas was settled in the master bedroom, Timothy flew downstairs.

'Fletcher! Fetch Doctor Ingrams please. It's urgent' he explained.

'Of course, Sir' Fletcher nodded.

Timothy darted back upstairs. He seated himself on the bed and took Dorcas' hand.

'Doctor Ingrams will be here soon, my darling' he murmured.

'Thank you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry for-' she began.

Timothy gently put his finger to her lips.

'Don't you dare apologize' he declared.

A knock at the door interrupted them.

Timothy kissed her forehead, then strode over to answer it.


End file.
